


Mine Alone

by Asholomew



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Anankos is dead, Angst, Descent into Madness, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Madness, Mild canon divergence, Mostly Canon Compliant, Overprotective, Politics, Post-Fire Emblem Fates: Birthright, Separation Anxiety
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:21:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29019621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asholomew/pseuds/Asholomew
Summary: The War is over. Nohr has lost. And for Selena and Odin, the mission is over.The coming days are bleak for Nohr. Hoshido demands reparations for the war. Camilla is thrust onto a throne she never desired. And Leo, her last remaining sibling, struggles to piece back together a broken kingdom.Selena, grieving her husband, Laslow, wants nothing more than to return home. However, her liege seems to feel otherwise. Accosted by her own grief, a deep seated paranoia grows within Camilla as her sanity begins to crack.Her Family has been broken. And she will protect her remaining bonds, by any means necessary.
Relationships: Belka | Beruka & Luna | Selena, Camilla & Leon | Leo, Camilla & Luna | Selena, Lazward | Laslow/Luna | Selena, Leon | Leo & Odin & Zero | Niles, Luna | Selena & Odin
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	1. Prelude to Disaster

The bells were ringing. Their dire chorus carried heavy news for the Kingdom of Nohr.

Soldiers ran throughout the castle as news of the Hoshidan infiltration spread. Echoes of frantic footsteps and commands flooded the halls as the staff and civilians were escorted to safe rooms and any exits. Among the crowds, Camilla hung like wet robes from the shoulders of her retainers, worn out from her battle with Corrin and the Hoshidan army. The throng of panic around them was both a blessing and a curse to Selena and Beruka, as they heaved their liege through the chaotic masses. While no one was present to pester them with questions, the unpredictable mobs inevitably delayed their progress. They grunted with each step, their advance hindered by the crowd.  
  
Mercifully, the doors to Camilla’s chambers came into sight. Throwing the doors open, the two retainers laid Camilla as gently as they could onto her bed. No sooner had Camilla’s head landed, Selena turned for the door.  
  
“Where are you going?" Beruka snapped. "You can't leave her."  
  
Selena froze, hand gripping her sword. _Shit_. In truth she was mere steps away from doing just that, much to her shame.  
  
“I wasn’t going to. I’m standing guard.” Her response came out more desperate than resolute. Camilla’s hysteria over finding Elise had not only dragged Selena away from Odin and Laslow, but also set the castle on edge. Now everything had gone to shit, and Selena was bound to protect Camilla, blind to the events unfolding. The hilt of her sword dug into her palm. Her stomach churned as she thought of her husband, Laslow. Hopefully he was safe. But with his liege, Xander, preparing to face Corrin, she couldn’t suppress her anxiety.  
  
_This couldn’t have gone worse._

“SAVE ME, YOUR MAJESTY!”  
  
Odin had never taken pleasure in hearing dying men plead for mercy. Yet in this case, even he couldn’t repress a small smirk hearing Iago’s pathetic squeals fall on deaf ears as his Lord, Leo, executed the repulsive sorcerer. From behind a statue, he and his fellow retainer, Niles, watched as Leo conversed with Corrin.  
  
“With the snake’s head severed, the final hour draws nigh. The Dark Prince strikes his bargain with the Maiden of the Silver Dragon, sealing the fate of the Night-Bound castle!”  
  
“Must you narrate everything, Odin?” said Niles with an exasperated sigh.  
  
Odin ceased his mumblings with a chuckle. “Do forgive me, my single-sighted sniper. I am simply wrapped in the growing tapestry of the moment.”  
  
“While I’m also trembling with jubilation at seeing the little swine get it, I don't need you to dictate the show to me. I can see it just fine."  
  
“But Niles,” Odin protested, “We are witnessing history in motion."  
  
“Oh there are other motions I’d rather witness.” Niles smirked, prompting an eye roll from Odin. “But right now, what's captivating my attention is that orb.”  
  
Odin returned his gaze to his liege. Leo was still talking with Corrin, a cracked, azure orb in his hand. The one Azura gave him. _That must be why Leo changed his mind so quickly.  
_  
Leo exchanged a brief, yet tight hug with Corrin, before descending the stairs of the main hall. Odin and Niles stepped out to meet him. “Milord, are we not to join them on their endeavour?” Odin inquired.  
  
Leo cast one last look at the Hoshidans disappearing through the grand doors, his face wracked with turmoil. “No. They will be victorious, I know it.”  
  
“So….” Niles drawled, “Do you intend to keep teasing us with that orb?”  
  
A disapproving glare from Leo silenced him. “Later. For now we must quell the panic. Both of you, I want you to go around to any and all troops. Tell them the situation has been resolved, and by command of Prince Leo they are to stand down.”  
  
“What of The King? And Prince Xander?” Niles tilted his head, confusion written over his features.  
  
Odin didn’t need to hear Leo’s reply. He knew King Garon was long gone, nothing more than a vessel for the Silent Dragon, Anankos. He suspected Leo now knew this too, thanks to the orb.  
  
Leo’s face scrunched, his response delayed. “Xander will listen to reason.” His lie was barely concealed. “As for my Father… He died when he started this war." The dark shadow over Leo’s face pained Odin. Watching his lord grapple with the truth compelled him to reach out and comfort him. He couldn’t imagine feeling this way of his own father, who gave his life shielding Odin from an arrow storm. For that man, he had only known admiration. Leo snapped back. “What are you two still doing here? Go, before the situation gets worse.”  
  
With a stiff bow, they left. The plan was nearly complete. All Odin could do now was pray that everything would work out. _Would Naga even hear us here?_

“You’re injured.”  
  
Selena nearly jumped at Beruka’s voice. Beruka was kneeling by her, inspecting a cut over her thigh, dark blood beginning to crust.  
  
“I’m fine.” Selena hastily stepped, limping as she felt the sting for the first time. Beruka seized her arm.  
  
“It is minor, but we cannot afford for anything to compromise our ability to protect Lady Camilla.” She fixed Selena with a defiant look.  
  
Selena relented with an agitated huff. She sat beside Camilla as Beruka applied bandages to the wound. It had grown rather quiet outside. With Beruka bandaging her leg and Camilla lying beside her, drawing long ragged breaths, she felt unbearably vulnerable. The bells had stopped, and the silence left in their wake was suffocating. She was ready to be done with this. She knew this mission would be dangerous, they all knew it. But she still resented that they had been dragged into yet another war. Everything was completely derailed when the war flared up, especially when Corrin left Nohr. Instead of being able to properly complete their mission, She, Odin and Laslow were trapped as retainers to the Nohrian royal family. Through sheer luck did they realise it was Corrin they had to aid. Now she had gotten through, Selena prayed she’d be able to end Anankos.  
She clawed at the bedsheets, frantically tapping her leg. Camilla dragging her away had upset the plan. Now she had no idea where Odin or Laslow were, or if they were even in position. _Do they even know?_ Selena struggled to keep her thoughts coherent as Beruka continued working.  
  
_Camilla is out cold. Leo is on side, according to Odin. That leaves Xander. With all this racket, I can't imagine Laslow being able to distract Xander. Which means he might get dragged into fighting.... Although, Elise is with Corrin. Maybe he won’t have to distract Xander.  
_  
Selena’s ears tingled. Thinking she heard a roar, she cocked her head, straining to listen. But as Beruka continued cleaning the wound, having seemingly heard nothing, Selena concluded she must have imagined it.  
  
_After that, it’s Garon. Well, Anankos. Can’t believe he has been here this entire time. That’s not at all terrifying. Least after this it should be over. Then we can leave, finally. Then Laslow and I can- No. Focus.  
_  
She hissed as a shot of pain ran up her leg. “You right there?”  
  
Beruka didn’t acknowledge her tone. “I’m making sure the bandage is tight.”  
  
“And cutting off my circulation.”  
  
Beruka looked up at Selena with blank eyes. “You’re worried. About Odin and Laslow.”  
  
“No shit.” Selena sneered, instantly regretting her response. She found Beruka’s stone-faced responses as helpful as they were infuriating. Such composure during a moment of tension was what she needed. Selena looked down, brow creased. “They’ll be ok. Right?”  
  
Beruka sat for a moment. “Yes.”  
  
Selena nodded. She repeated Beruka's response to herself, for what little help it did.

A disembodied bellow was heard, the force of it tearing through the castle, shaking the foundations and rattling the bones of the anxious soldiers Odin found himself among. His heart soared, sensing the tingle of ancient magic. _That sensation. It can only mean that he’s dead! It’s over!_ Odin clenched his fists in elation, relieved laughter pouring unrestrained.  
  
“What the hell is wrong with him?” The soldiers shifted nervously. “What the hell are you laughing at?  
  
Composing himself, Odin turned to the crowd. “Succumb not to the fear, oh brave soldiers.” He cheered to the fidgeting crowd. “For the malignant curse that has quietly pervaded this castle has been purged.” The soldiers looked to him as if he were a rambling hermit.  
  
“What are you prattling about?” One trembled.  
  
“Speak plainly, jester!” Another snapped.  
  
Odin sniggered from where he stood. “Do not fear repercussion, for such knowledge was known to few, but there has been a presence in this castle. A dark, malevolent spectre that has slithered in and taken root. One who would seek to prolong this war, who would profit on death and suffering. And with that bellow, you can trust that I, Odin Dark, can confirm its demise.”  
  
The agitated mumblings of the soldiers were cut off by the deep, booming ring of a bell. Odin’s head snapped up. This wasn’t the same bell that rang to alert the castle of the invasion. It was deeper, slower. By the toll of that bell, the entire castle knew that the King was dead. Frantic running could be heard echoing through the halls as it kept ringing. Odin’s brow furrowed. An icy anxiety wormed its way up his chest, lodging in his throat. Why the death of the King concerned him he could not place. Soon voices were heard.  
  
“The Crown prince has fallen!”  
  
Odin’s heart beat matched the bell in intensity. They called out not for their King? With each strike, his fear grew. The calls of despair kept coming.  
  
“Prince Xander is dead!”  
  
“Prince Xander has fallen!”  
  
“Lady Elise has fallen!”  
  
Odin gripped his hair in his hands, head swarming in a haze of panic. _Xander’s dead? And Elise too?! How calamitous was that battle?_ His heart seized at the next toll. _What of Laslow?  
_  
He took off like a frightened animal, bolting for the Great Hall.

Selena and Beruka jumped at the toll of the bell.  
  
“The King’s dead.” Beruka whispered.  
  
Selena clutched her sword so much her hand ached. The castle came alive as people rushed through the halls, the sounds of their footsteps mashing into a low drone, buzzing like insects in a hive. Voices carried the news through the castle.  
  
“Prince Xander has died!”  
  
“Lady Elise is dead!”  
  
The pair were stunned. Selena’s heart flew to her throat. If Xander was dead, then what about Laslow? She leapt off the bed and made for the door. She was yanked back by her arm.  
  
“What are you doing?!” Beruka snapped incredulously.  
  
“Let me go! I have to find Laslow!” Selena tried to wrest her arm free.  
  
“And leave Lady Camilla?”  
  
The bell continued to toll. Each ring reminding her that time was slipping away. “Let me go! I have to know. I have to know!” She snapped, her eyes frantic and pleading. Beruka looked her over, eyes softening ever so slightly before relinquishing her hold.  
  
“Alright. I’ll guard Lady Camilla.”  
  
Beruka had barely finished before Selena was out the door. The halls were in chaos as guards and servants ran about. She barrelled down a hall, figuring the throne room would be the safest bet. The bell taunted her as she was jostled by the crowd, her movements mired by the throng, like wading through mud. She rounded a corner, only to be almost toppled by a sprinting mage.  
  
“Watch where you’re going, fuckwit!” She whirled on the mage, pausing when she realised it was Odin, panting and eyes reeling.  
  
“Selena! You’re alright!” Odin clasped her shoulders, nearly crying.  
  
“I’m fine, where’s Laslow?” She gripped his wrists in return.  
  
“I don’t know,” He panted, his tone quivering in terror. “Last I knew Xander was fighting Corrin in the Great Hall. I’m heading there now.”  
  
Without further discussion, the two of them took off.

Neither the sting of her wound, nor the burning in her lungs could match the pain in her heart. Selena and Odin ascended the steps to the Great Hall two at a time, barging past soldiers and healers. Everything a blur save the doors. The scene within hit them like a hammer. Bodies littered the floor, both Nohrian and Hoshidan. Torchlight reflected off discarded weapons and pools of blood, giving the room a hellish, orange glow. The hall was crowded by people carrying the wounded and the dead away.  
Selena furiously wiped her eyes, desperately trying to clear her vision, throwing her head around trying to spot anyone she recognised. The smell of the dead choked her, and the mounting dread nearly overwhelmed her. She caught a glimpse of black armour as her vision cleared.  
  
Propped against the far wall, armour mangled and hair tousled was Prince Xander. His neck bent on an unusual angle, he looked more like a decrepit wretch than a proud prince. Beside him lay Elise, her body covered with what looked to be Xander’s cape, the middle soaked a deep crimson. Selena drew a pained breath. She looked further to the right. Peri lay slumped up against the wall. Even in death, she bore an unsettling smile, her face frozen in twisted joy. Her expression likened her more to a child’s doll made in poor taste, rather than the corpse of a soldier slain in battle. She still couldn’t see him among the bodies. Perhaps...  
  
She heard Odin gasp and froze on the spot. The world went quiet, save for a dreadful ringing in her ear. She knew she had to look, but couldn’t bring herself to do so. Praying against the inevitable, she forced her head to turn.  
  
Odin had already crossed the room. Cradled in his arms, was Laslow’s limp body.  
  
She gasped and ran to him on weak legs, falling to her knees by his side. Odin rocked back and forth, wordless pleas pouring from his mouth like the tears from his eyes. She reached for Laslow, blood roaring in her ears, slow and sluggish as if submerged in water.  
  
“Laslow? Laslow please.” Odin whispered. “Please open your eyes.” The quivering desperation in his voice drove an icy knife into her heart.  
  
“Wake up.” She wheezed. “Laslow don’t you dare leave me. Laslow!" She struggled to breathe, her voice died in her throat.  
  
“Come on buddy. You’ve been through worse.”  
  
"You promised. You promised we'd go home together. Get up!" She clutched his shirt, the thick cloth squelching, soaked a deep crimson. Selena shook violently as she gazed upon her husband, hand clawing, searching for something, anything to save him. But as she looked at his bloody body, adorned with black metal stars, clothes torn and shield scratched, the gut-wrenching reality crushed her. “Inigo… Please.” She whispered.  
  
They cradled him a moment longer, breaths bated as if waiting for an answer. For him to wink and chuckle. For it all to be a nightmare. But as she looked into Odin’s eyes, saw the despair within, it was clear that their beloved friend was gone. Selena pounded his chest in agony, choking on tears she had fought so desperately.  
  
“You bastard,” she cried, “You fucking bastard.”  
  
She fell upon him, gripping him as if to stop him from floating away, her tears soaking into his tunic. She didn’t feel Odin’s arms encompass them both, his head against hers, his tears hot on her skin. She only felt the stiff, cold body of Laslow, the smell of his blood in her nostrils. She cried as promises danced unfulfilled in her head, as hopes for their future died with him.  
  
For Selena and Odin, time seemed to stand still. Everything they had fought for: Nohr, Hoshido, the battle with Garon and Anankos; it all faded into the background. The weight of the war seemed trivial compared to that of the body in their arms and the heaviness in their hearts. Their victory rang hollow over the chilling visage of Laslow, his eyes hidden under his blood-soaked hair, his expression a grimace that seemed so much like a smile.

His arms and knees ached in tandem with his heart, yet Odin made no effort to stand. Barely a breath stirred between him and Selena while they gripped Laslow. How much time had passed? He cared not. Nothing registered to him. Selena’s weak gasps were deafening compared to the great bell, whose toll sounded far away. He could not feel the rough stone beneath him, yet he felt every strand of Laslow’s hair. The agonising tearing in his chest had dulled, replaced by what could only be described as nothingness.  
  
A hand gently grasped his shoulder. He slowly turned his head up, blinking lethargically like one does when roused from a deep sleep. Niles gazed down at him, his mouth pulled into a taut line. Odin could not read his face.  
  
“We’re moving the bodies.” His voice, while soft, cut like glass. “We’re going to put Laslow and Peri with Xander.”  
  
Selena pulled her head up. Through red, puffy eyes, she had a look of resignation. Odin nodded, shifting to lift his friend. He drew a deep breath and lifted. He didn’t get Laslow past his knees before sinking with a pained whine. Selena caught him, looping her arms under Laslow and gripping Odin’s. He gave her an apologetic look, only to receive an understanding grimace. They lifted Laslow and followed Niles.  
  
The royal mausoleum wasn't far, physically speaking. Essentially its own wing of the castle as opposed to a necropolis of its own. But carrying Laslow, who even between them felt as heavy as iron, made the journey a test of endurance. Their steps were slow and trembling. Selena’s head hung lamely over Laslow's, a distant and haunted look in her eyes. Odin kept his eyes averted. He could no longer bear to gaze on his friend's battered visage. His throat ached, and the torches along the walls could not stave off the chill. Fragmented memories of long ago flitted in and out of his mind. From his wretched time fighting the Fell Dragon, of carrying more and more of the dead. He never remembered them being so heavy.  
  
The doors to the mausoleum loomed before them: a dark, repulsive maw from which wafted the stench of death. Although most of the soldiers’ bodies were taken to be cremated on a funeral pyre, it was Nohrian tradition that the royalty were brought here, as were their retainers. Odin and Selena both grimaced. At the centre of the room stood a massive pedestal covered in ornate drapes and cushions. Laying on the pedestal was Garon. His skin was sunken, as if the muscle beneath had dissolved, aged well beyond his years; likely a result of Anankos' possession. Their contempt for him burned like fire.  
  
Encircling the pedestal were stone benches; a courtesy for family members who were too old or frail to stand. On one such bench lay Xander. Peri lay on the next bench, her features tweaked to appear less macabre. The bench after was empty; a cold reminder of who it was for. Hushed tones and whimpers drew their attention to the other side of the room where Elise lay, now cleaned and redressed. Leo knelt by her side, head buried in her shoulder. Corrin stood with him, arms wrapped tight around him. Barely perceptible in the inky darkness stood the imposing form of Ryoma, the High Prince of Hoshido, flanked by some Hoshidan warriors. Odin felt Selena tense. A Hoshidan approached, arms raised to accept Laslow. Selena recoiled, snarling. Odin held his hand to calm the anxious soldiers, hands on their weapons. With the Hoshidans settled, Odin and Selena lay Laslow on the stone, her hand lingered under his head before withdrawing reluctantly.  
  
A sudden wave of nausea overcame Odin. Everything seemed to blur and sway. He carefully gripped Selena’s trembling shoulders, partly to steady himself, partly as a gesture of comfort. She shuddered.  
It was then that Corrin noticed them, tentatively approaching. Her freshly bandaged brow was furrowed, her lips drooped and her cheeks wet. She looked pitifully small in her brilliant silver armour, a far cry from her draconic form.  
  
"I just wanted to say," she started, her voice wobbling, hands clutching each other.  
  
"Don't."  
  
Both Corrin and Odin blinked. Selena's one word carried so much venom they could only wince in response. Corrin took a deep breath before trying again. "I'm so sorry about-"  
  
"DON'T." Selena's voice echoed through the mausoleum. "Not a damn word from you!"  
  
“Selena…” Odin warned, wary of the uneasy eyes on them. She shook his hands off, jabbing a finger at Corrin.  
  
“This was your fault,” Selena growled, making Corrin shrink back. “If it weren’t for you… If it hadn't been for you…” She clenched her fists, turning to Laslow as her voice fell to a low rasp. “He’d still be alive.” She buried her face in Laslow’s chest.  
Odin gave Corrin an apologetic look, silently pleading for her to understand. She returned his look with a grim smile and a defeated shrug. Selena’s muffled sniffles nearly brought him to his knees, when Leo stepped forward.  
  
“Lord Leo.” Odin mustered a half salute, despite his legs wishing to cave. Leo looked at him with vacant, red eyes. “My sincerest condolences, milord.”  
  
Unable to form a proper response, Leo grasped Odin’s shoulder. His fingers dug into Odin’s clothes. He opened his mouth, a long pause following. “Why don’t you and Selena retire for the night?”  
  
“Milord?”  
  
“It’s been a long war. We could all do with some rest.”  
  
“I’m not leaving him.” Selena groaned from the slab.  
  
“He’ll still be here tomorrow.” Leo said, earning him a vicious glare. “The castle will be safe now. Most of the Hoshidans are gone, and I’ve organised security patrols. Go on.”  
  
Odin nodded solemnly, further protests being smothered by the lump forming in his throat. It took a minute of quiet coaxing, but Selena eventually relented, allowing Odin to gently pull her from Laslow.  
  
“And don’t worry about rising early. Take your time.” Leo gave a reassuring nod.  
  
They left with one last glance, unspoken words hovering with the dust in the air.

They were silent the whole way back to their chambers. Artifacts of the invasion littered the halls. Everywhere Odin looked a painful reminder. Selena ghosted beside him, eyes glazed and steps slow. Odin was submerged in a horrid sensation. He saw, heard, smelled and felt the world around him, yet the persistent, nagging feeling of something lost pervaded his thoughts.  
  
Before long they stood at the door to Selena’s room. “I guess this is you.” Odin croaked. He stopped a mere step away. He turned to see Selena, head low, weakly gripping his sleeve.  
  
“Please.” Her voice was tiny and strained. “Don’t leave me.”  
  
He allowed her to lead him into her room, for he truly did not wish to leave her, terrified she would vanish as well. He stopped just inside the door to look about her room. It was small and simple, yet heavily decorated, almost lavishly. Coloured carpets filled the floor, while all manner of trinkets dotted any surface that was unattended. He almost laughed thinking of how crammed her wardrobe would be. Safe to say, it was definitely Selena.  
  
A clang jolted him from his musings. Selena stood in the centre of the room, her shield haphazardly dropped. With slow, lethargic movements, she pulled her gambeson off, the heavy fabric pulling at her hair ties, which she discarded just as callously. Odin had half a mind to turn away when her chainmail came off, but instead of undressing further she flopped onto the bed. She struggled with the fastenings of her boots, fingers slipping with frantic movements. Odin couldn’t bear to watch as her breaths turned to whimpers. Quickly bending down, he helped her remove her boots. She tried to slap his hands away in protest, but relented, slumping her shoulders. Deciding she was sufficiently undressed, Selena lay down, absent-mindedly patting the mattress next to her. He removed his shoes and cape and joined her. It wasn’t a massive bed, but her small frame gave him enough room to lie beside her.  
  
Silence hung between them, and in that silence floated their discordant thoughts. _How had things gone so wrong so quickly?_  
  
Not for the first time that night, Odin wished he could undo what had been done. To turn back time like they had done all those years ago. Maybe even stop them from coming to this wretched world. He silenced his selfish thoughts and rolled over. Selena had her back to him. She made no sound, and were it not for the slight rise and fall of her shoulders as she breathed, he’d fear her dead from grief. Not knowing how to proceed, Odin simply lay there. He tried several times to speak, each sentence lodged itself in his throat. He gave up, settling for one phrase.  
  
“Goodnight, Severa.”  
  
He was met with silence, though he did not blame her. It would not be a good night, nor would the next, or the one after. Why he used her old name, even he didn’t know. He settled into a position, sure he would get no answer.  
  
“Goodnight. Owain.” The reply was so faint, Odin questioned if he heard right. But it was enough. He succumbed to exhaustion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, after three years of conceptionalising, planning and drafting, we've finally got the first chapter of this fic out. Let's hope people still read Fates fics in this day and age.


	2. Aftermath

The throne loomed ominously over him.

Thorns stretched into the dark abyss above Leo as he studied every detail of the seat his father had sat upon for years. The room lay in disarray. Columns and rubble littered the spacious chamber like litter in an alley. The solid stone beneath him was cracked, evoking the same desolate feelings of the Nohrian wastelands. Scorches and scratches marred the surfaces of the room. And permeating it all were echoes of water droplets and the tingle of magic. Leo’s steps were heavy and burdened as he moved around the room, scattering tiny pieces of rubble with every step. Each mark added to the gruesome narrative he was forming of the battle that would have occurred. He wondered where Corrin had stood: whether she faced his father head on, hung back and sent her new family in, or snuck around and killed him from behind. Nothing would surprise him at this point. 

_Not Father. Anankos._

He had to keep reminding himself that Garon was long dead, nothing more than a vessel for a creature he had never heard of. Were it not for the orb Azura had given him, he’d have never believed it. He should’ve known there was more to his father’s declining health. Leo had long considered him gone, but Xander and Elise didn’t. And now they too were dead. As much as he tried to remember that it was Xander’s own loyalty that blinded him and led to his death, a smaller, darker side of him could not help but lay the blame at Corrin’s feet. He heard footsteps behind him. Almost as if his musings had summoned her.

“I thought I asked you to get the Hoshidans out of the castle.” He did not turn to face her.

“They are. It’s just me now.” Corrin approached, laying a hand over his shoulder.

"Shouldn’t you be with your family?”

“You’re my family too. You and Camilla, regardless of blood. It felt wrong to just leave you here alone to pick up the pieces.”

He shook her hand off, turning to her. “I’d have thought by now you’d learned more.” He paused at her perturbed expression, but the sting in his heart kept the words flowing. "We've been picking the pieces up ever since you left.” He expected a retort, or a half-hearted apology. But all Corrin gave was a teary, sympathetic look that smothered the fire inside. “Sorry.” he muttered.

“It’s alright. There’s no denying the pain I’ve caused.”

He averted his gaze and resumed walking around the ruins of the room. “Looks like it was quite the battle.” He gazed down at a massive crevice in the ground. The stone looked as if it had burst from beneath. Wet wood and sediment resided within. He couldn’t help but marvel at the sheer destruction. “Anankos?” 

“Yes.” Corrin scanned the room with a haunted look. Like she was searching for something. “It was devastating.”

Leo cast his eyes up to the cracked effigy of the Dusk Dragon. “But he’s been dealt with. Yes?”

Corrin gave him a flat smile. “Yes. He’s gone. Azura made sure of that.”

The mention of Azura snapped his attention back to the present like a bucket of icy water to the face. It occurred to him that he hadn’t seen Azura at all since before they fought Xander. He’d easily write her off as dead, as much as such a thought sickened him, were it not for the fact that he hadn’t seen her body. The questions continued to pile up. “How did she manage that? And where is she anyway?”

Corrin opened her mouth to respond when a shadow in their peripheral vision caught their attention. Beruka stood in the entrance of the throne room, arms folded behind her, the parts of her face not obscured by shadow were stony. How long had she been standing there? "Beruka." Leo's tone came out strained. Her blank face and rigid stance unsettled him.

"Lord Leo." Beruka tilted her head. "Corrin." She shot an indecipherable look at her.

"What is it, Beruka?"

Beruka straightened herself. "Lady Camilla is awake, my Lord."

Leo's heart pounded. A growing dread began to gnaw at him. He cleared his throat before speaking. "What does she know?"

"Just that the war is over."

_Of course_. The dread flared into near panic.

"She wishes to see you."

"Me?" Leo asked incredulously.

Beruka considered her words. "Her family, my Lord."

Leo looked at Corrin. Through her eyes, he could tell she shared the same strained feeling in her chest. "Take us to her."

Camilla stared into the flickering flames of the fireplace, cold cloth pressed to her pounding head. Her nails clawing holes into the riding cloak she clutched around her. She tried to keep her breathing steady while she waited for Beruka to return.

_I can’t believe it’s over. It’s finally over._

Beruka had recounted to Camilla the events of the night while she had lain there, bleary eyed and disoriented. Of how Corrin and the Hoshidans had infiltrated the castle, their battle, and that Corrin was successful in ending the war. The news was good, and yet Camilla was unsettled.

_Am I simply grieving father? Maybe. Not that he’s given me much reason to. I know Beruka can be rather taciturn, but her tone seemed off. Like she was hiding something._

It was by Beruka’s insistence that Camilla remained in her room, watching the flames dance. Normally she’d write it off as her doing her job. Yet the way Beruka had fidgeted made Camilla’s stomach churn.

_Beruka would have informed me if something had happened. Surely she would. So why did she seem so hesitant? And where is Selena? Beruka never said anything happened to Corrin, so that can’t be it…_

A knock roused her. She was already half standing when Corrin and Leo shuffled into her room, followed by Beruka. “Corrin!” Camilla dropped the cloth, instinctively opening her arms as Corrin ran to her. Pain shot up her spine like a bolt of electricity as she embraced her, but it was worth it to be able to finally hold her as a sibling again. She took a moment to savour the feeling of hugging Corrin again, gripping her cape as if to anchor her to this plane of existence. Still, curiosity hovered over the reunion, the questions buzzing at the back of her mind. She reluctantly released her, cupping her face in her hands. "I'm so glad you're alright. Beruka tells me the war is over?"

Corrin nodded vigorously in response.

"So you're coming home, right?"

Corrin’s smile faded. Her hand was shaky as it held Camilla’s.

"What's wrong? The war is over, we can be a family again, right?" Her heart threatened to burst through her ribs. It got worse when Corrin began to cry. Panic began to creep in as a sickening realisation came to her. Where were the rest of her family? She looked between Corrin, Leo and Beruka. Her stomach dropped. Beruka had hidden something. And she had an inkling as to what it was. "Where's Xander? And Elise?"

Corrin broke down, her words spilling out as near incomprehensible babble. "I'm sorry Camilla, I'm so sorry, I tried to save them, I really did, but Xander wouldn't stop and Elise jumped in and, and-"

The pain from her heart seizing nearly made her faint. She desperately looked to Leo, who glanced away in guilt. The pressure in her head became blinding.

The race to the Mausoleum was a blur. A miasma of grim shadows caused by blinding torchlight and sharp jolts of pain. Stumbling through the doors, Camilla gasped and panted as if she’d ran for days, despite the journey’s brevity. She clutched her head as she struggled to process the scene before her. There, laying on two stone benches were her precious siblings, Xander and Elise, skin as pale as the moonlight streaming in.

Denial and anguish mingled in the pit of her stomach, leaving her nauseous. Drawing a deep breath, Camilla approached Xander, the clicks of her boots sounding so far away. She stood over him, lightly running a finger over the numerous scratches and dents in his armour. It was strange looking down on him, Camilla never got that chance; Xander was always so tall and proud. It only added to the surging sense of abnormality. She bent down to his level. With his hair fixed by careful attendants, he almost seemed to sleep. But the way his skin sunk, colour drained from his lips and the dark spots forming further down confirmed the awful truth: Xander, the once strong pillar of the family, was dead.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t help you.” She whispered forlornly. She reached for the thin crown that encircled his head. “If only you had’ve stopped being a prince, just for once.” She set the crown aside and entwined her fingers in his. They did not move. It should’ve felt wrong, yet it didn’t. Camilla did not know if it was because she too had begun to believe his ramblings, that his duty came before his well being, or if it was because his visage now matched how his eyes had looked for so many months now.  
With a final squeeze of his hand, she stood and turned to Elise, stepping lightly to her. The whole room seemed to sway, nothing felt solid anymore. By the time she reached Elise, she had gone numb. She hardly recognised her as Elise. Her neat hair and dress along with her porcelain skin gave her the appearance of a freshly made doll. With that thought, it was hard to imagine that this was truly her little sister lying before her. Somewhere, in the distant recesses of her mind, obscured in the fog of grief, her muted reactions disturbed her. She knelt down, cupping her cheek and pressing their foreheads together.

“You silly little girl.” She heard herself say in a playfully admonishing tone. “What were you thinking?” A small smile crept onto her face. That’s when she saw the dried blood peek from below Elise’s collar.  
She shouldn’t. Her mind screamed at her not to look. But the internal pleas were drowned out by the blood roaring in her ears, her shallow breaths and the bubbling urge that lowered her hand, gripped the collar and gently pulled.  
She gasped and recoiled, hands flying to her mouth. No matter how much she screwed her eyes shut, the vision of the cavernous gash branded itself in her mind; deep crimson against bone white, pulled together by crude stitches. All at once her composure collapsed, the horrific reality bore down on her, drowning her in agony.

“Camilla!”

Her eyes flew open. She was barely aware of Corrin’s arms around her waist. She tore herself away from Elise, gasping, her gaze landing on Garon.

_“You!"_

Camilla stalked over to Garon, pulling herself from Corrin’s embrace. Ragged breaths poured from her like a predatory beast. “This is all because of you.” She slammed her fists on his armour, the sound ringing throughout the crypt. Sobs broke out as she clawed pathetically at his breastplate, as though she meant to rip him apart.

“I hope it was worth it.” She sobbed. A small hand gently rubbed her back, beckoning her from the corpse.

“Camilla.” Corrin’s voice sounded distant. “Let’s get out of here. Let’s go back to the castle.”

Camilla remained rooted to the spot, unable to look away from Garon’s wretched carcass. She was fixated on the leathery folds of his skin, the frazzled hairs of his beard, the dark blotches that marred his face and his sunken eyes. It was as if the very muscles below had melted away, looking more like a sick puppet than a real person.  
There was nothing left of Garon, nothing left to answer for the pain and suffering he had wrought. The thought he would never face punishment for his actions was almost insulting. How cruel the fates were; to take her darling siblings from her, while sparing this wretched, detestable waste of skin from retribution. The indignation was overpowering, welling up within her. This was an affront.  
Corrin tried to pull her away to no avail. Seething with an uncompromising fury, Camilla lashed out, seizing a nearby lantern and smashing it against Garon’s head with a blood curdling cry. The shattered glass dug into his face, the oils splattering over him as the flames ignited his hair.

Camilla succumbed to the pain, falling to her knees, supported by Leo and Corrin. Heartbroken and held by the last of her fragmented family, she could do nothing else but wail as the flames slowly consumed his body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little shorter this time around, but ah well. Better to write the right amount rather than padding it out for the sake of word count.   
> Small change to canon: Corrin is aware of Anankos' existence, something Azura would've discussed at at some point after the Opera House incident. Just a minor detail.


End file.
